


G is for Ghost

by ladyjonquilinthenorth



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: ABC's of Jonsa, F/M, Fluff, Headcanon, Jonsa babies - Freeform, Post-Series, ghost POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 21:55:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11906982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyjonquilinthenorth/pseuds/ladyjonquilinthenorth
Summary: Just a short headcanon I wrote for the ABC's of Jonsa on Tumblr. Jonsa babies (because who can get enough!) through Ghost's POV.





	G is for Ghost

It’s Ghost who first senses that there will soon be a pitter-patter of tiny feet echoing through the cavernous halls of the castle. From the minute the knowledge dawns on him, he spends every waking moment nosing at Red’s still-flat belly, waiting to hear the faint flutterings of the minuscule heart growing within. He loves to sleepily doze beside the crackling fire on stormy nights as she knits tiny booties and cards her gentle hands through his fur. He only wakes slightly when Master joins their company and watches as He takes Red’s face in his hands and drops a feather-light kiss on her lips before stooping to do the same on her ever-growing bump.

***

He knows the babe has come, can sense it deep within, even before the shrill cries coming from the Lord’s chamber startle him into wakefulness. It is a sound he has never heard before, and the utter helplessness resounding off the walls in continuous waves tugs at his ageing heartstrings. But when he pads excitedly into the room behind his rushing Master and lays eyes on the red, wriggling  _thing_ in Red’s arms, Ghost knows that all the previous events and hurdles in his short life have been leading to this moment. It is there and then that he silently vows to protect that  _thing_  with all his living spirit. Many are the darkened nights that follow when he dozes beside the cradle in the small chamber, only too happy to jerk awake at the slightest sniffle from Thing before padding off to Master’s bed to alert Red that her watch has just begun.

***

As more  _things_ appear in the castle, Ghost begins to attribute names to them. After all, not all the Things require the same duties from him, and if Master and She must differentiate between them, so must he. There’s Thing, who becomes White, due to the queer pale color of his  _fur_. Ghost has never seen the color on any but himself, and so White becomes his favorite, along with his strangely purple eyes, so similar to his own. The ones that follow are smaller versions of Master and Red with their dark curls and boisterous laughs. Little Red loves to sweep through the halls, always humming softly to herself and stopping to tie small pink bows in his fur (which he somehow can’t seem to shake off) while Black prefers to ride on his back shouting “giddyup, giddyup!” as Ghost drags his ancient muscles through the corridors and wishes for  _just some peace and quiet._

_***_

But when all is said and done, he loves the brood of Whites, Blacks, Auburns, and Little Reds his Masters have entrusted with his care, and every day wakes to a new vow to protect and defend this small pocket of warmth spreading its tendrils through the still-frozen North and bringing with it an ever-increasing dream of Spring.


End file.
